SUNJATA
the flood
i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"
that "the answers unlock this gate"
The repeated okay has Sunjata still trembling, shaking, breaking within the arms of Nate. He’s welcome to pull and push and press against Sunjata in whichever way he can. He ends up in the Ascended’s lap, feeling so small and broken and fragile and it rebels against that internal part of him, the one that had been raised to refrain from his weakness, beaten when he’d acted out or shown it, beaten when he’d fallen into those traps of self destruction.
Until he turned seventeen, that is. And then his father was content to let him burn and meld and deal with his problems hidden from the public eye – to pretend that it didn’t exist when it most certainly did. When he’d prepared that mask to hide behind, to get out his aggression in the work that he did for his father on the front lines, enforcing and plotting a way around it behind closed doors.
Until… That day when he’d nearly stepped off the ledge of a building when he couldn’t find a way out of it.
And he shakes and trembles with those thoughts, while Nate… Nate doesn’t. But he does do something else that causes Sunjata to realize just how much he’s fucked up. There’s a sharp inhale when he can feel the fluid slip through the fabric of his ashen shirt, and he manages to break through the trembling of his hands and arms to squeeze Nate tighter when he speaks, some sort of… Closeness he hadn’t expected with the Ascended but happy to take. Because Nate hadn’t let him push him away, hadn’t bowed to that shift in him that was far more police-like that Sunjata had only eluded to.
He hadn’t shied away. And really? Really that says a lot to him. His voice trembles just as his arms do, listening to the admission and sucking in a sharp inhale. “I know.” He says, even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Honestly, when it came to part of the reason Sunjata had needed that break, it had started because of the man that holds him, that breaks with him, that he’s hurt, and it causes some sort of realization within him. “I’m sorry Nate. I’m sorry.” He utters, shaking voice leaving his throat and far heavier in his accent.
He does something different than he typically does when he shuts down, because nobody else had broken down with him in such a way as this… And he lifts his head away, brushing a stubbled cheek against the Ascended’s as he tries to find those swimming electric steels – his own storms shadowed and shattered and rimmed with red, one hand lifting to Nate’s raven hair. “You’re important to me too, okay? I’m just.. I.” He wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t. “I do this, a lot.” He’s reached that edge to step over multiple times in his life. “ I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
Until he turned seventeen, that is. And then his father was content to let him burn and meld and deal with his problems hidden from the public eye – to pretend that it didn’t exist when it most certainly did. When he’d prepared that mask to hide behind, to get out his aggression in the work that he did for his father on the front lines, enforcing and plotting a way around it behind closed doors.
Until… That day when he’d nearly stepped off the ledge of a building when he couldn’t find a way out of it.
And he shakes and trembles with those thoughts, while Nate… Nate doesn’t. But he does do something else that causes Sunjata to realize just how much he’s fucked up. There’s a sharp inhale when he can feel the fluid slip through the fabric of his ashen shirt, and he manages to break through the trembling of his hands and arms to squeeze Nate tighter when he speaks, some sort of… Closeness he hadn’t expected with the Ascended but happy to take. Because Nate hadn’t let him push him away, hadn’t bowed to that shift in him that was far more police-like that Sunjata had only eluded to.
He hadn’t shied away. And really? Really that says a lot to him. His voice trembles just as his arms do, listening to the admission and sucking in a sharp inhale. “I know.” He says, even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Honestly, when it came to part of the reason Sunjata had needed that break, it had started because of the man that holds him, that breaks with him, that he’s hurt, and it causes some sort of realization within him. “I’m sorry Nate. I’m sorry.” He utters, shaking voice leaving his throat and far heavier in his accent.
He does something different than he typically does when he shuts down, because nobody else had broken down with him in such a way as this… And he lifts his head away, brushing a stubbled cheek against the Ascended’s as he tries to find those swimming electric steels – his own storms shadowed and shattered and rimmed with red, one hand lifting to Nate’s raven hair. “You’re important to me too, okay? I’m just.. I.” He wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t. “I do this, a lot.” He’s reached that edge to step over multiple times in his life. “ I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed
you'd still be wishing you were blessed
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
